


Crowned by an Overture

by curls101



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Do we need to tag that if that's just canon Thanatos?, Emotionally Constipated Thanatos, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Pining Thanatos, ThanZag - Freeform, it's about the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27351475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curls101/pseuds/curls101
Summary: There was so much kindness in Zagreus’ face, so much tenderness. Thanatos didn’t know how long he had been looking back, how much he had seen -“Than?” he said, with that same hopeful lilt that Thanatos held so fondly when he appeared in battle. It had just meant to be one time, one small repayment for the friendship they had once had, it was never supposed to lead here. Thanatos took a step forward into the room, though it ached to do so.“I-”No words came to save him.-Zagreus is learning to play the lyre and Thanatos isn't ready for the desires of his own heart.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 343





	Crowned by an Overture

**Author's Note:**

> (fic title from "Achilles Come Down" by Gang of Youths, but you probably knew that already)
> 
> Set just before *that* Thanatos and Hades conversation (you know the one), but has no spoilers for complete runs or true ending.

> _`His fingers touched the strings, and all my thoughts were displaced. The sound was pure and sweet as water, bright as lemons. It was like no music I had ever heard before. It had warmth as a fire does, a texture and weight like polished ivory. It buoyed and soothed at once. A few hairs slipped forward to hang over his eyes as he played. They were fine as lyre strings themselves, and shone. He stopped, pushed back his hair, and turned to me._  
>  _“Now you.”_  
>  _I shook my head, full to spilling. I could not play, now. Not ever, if I could listen to him play instead._  
>  _“You play,” I said.`_  
>  _\- Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller, p.33_

Thanatos arrived in the house with the dull toll of the death bell in his customary place, safely nestled between the River Styx and the Administrative Chamber. Fortunately, he did not require the latter. His work today had been as painless as his task allowed, though, as usual, a general malaise of weariness had settled into his bones. Death was painless; not easy. If someone had to carry that weight, then the Fates had placed it upon his shoulders as kindly as his sisters ever did. Only Achilles was there to witness the small stumble as he willed himself to float, but he did not make a motion to acknowledge it. 

His arrival did not usually go unacknowledged. On an average day, Achilles would incline his head, or give a small smile. If Lord Hades was absent, the two would dare to exchange each other’s names by way of greeting. Now, however, Achilles stared ahead, his shoulders wound tightly, his hand fastened to his spear as though he were gazing upon the walls of Troy once more with the single-minded pursuit of retribution. Thanatos had learned to read the progress of Zagreus’ escape attempts in the lines between Achilles’ brows and the tightness of his jaw. This was a sign of something, but the nature of that sign was indecipherable. 

Thanatos stole a glance behind him into the bloodied depths of the river Styx. He would never admit that he did this whenever he arrived on the sole hope that he may see Zagreus drifting homeward. He could imagine it now, his dark hair caressed and tossed by the red streams of the river, the laurel in his hair askew, but forever attached to him. The wounds (of which there were always too many) would be gently ushered closed. Zagreus would rise, the streams of red running down the muscles of his chest, and smile in that way that only he could, as though everything in the world was something he cherished and held tenderly. He would not wait. The soles of Zagreus’ feet burned hot, and standing on them too long seemed almost to pain him, though the fire would never truly harm him. Nothing really could.

He tore his eyes away from the water. Zagreus was not there and that was all he needed to know. Lingering in such a way was a distraction from his purpose here. Thanatos drifted forwards and turned the corner into the main hall, his body pressed to the column behind him. Lord Hades’ desk presided empty. Some tension in Thanatos’ demeanor evaporated like night mist in the morning sun. Hypnos snored softly on the plush, orange sofa Zagreus had commissioned for him. Why he had encouraged his twin brother to abuse his duties further, he was sure he had no idea, especially when he was so prominently in the Lord’s sight. It grated Hades enough that Orpheus had to sit to play his lyre. Sleeping in his periphery would surely invoke his wrath.

Orpheus’ chair sat empty, which for a moment startled Thanatos, for he could certainly hear him. The melody of Orpheus’ lyre was unmistakable. In life, he could bend the ears of the trees and nymphs, and some ghost of that same skill that charmed the King of all Dead still nestled like a dull ember in his fingers and the dark lull of his voice. Something of the lyre’s sound echoed illogically, but perhaps Thanatos was just accustomed to the sound of his voice from the same spot. He leaned a little against Hypnos’ resting place, just to assess the room, which wrested his brother from sleep.

Hypnos was not woken by anything unless he intended it to, so Thanatos did not hasten to fall over himself with apologies. Often, when they were younger (though, as Gods, they had never been young) Hypnos would wake with a start, accusing Thanatos of disturbing him, only to fall into giggles the moment Than began to explain himself. He had adjusted since.

“Woah, Good morning, brother! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Thanatos did not remind him that it was not morning, for he could not say for certain that it was not. Hypnos had a warm energy like the rising sun, and it made Thanatos instinctively squint at its brightness.

“You wished to see me?”

Hypnos nodded, more times than were necessary, pushing the sleep mask that perpetually sat askew on his forehead back into the nest of his hair.

“Master Hades has been asking to speak with you,” he continued, drifting up and flicking through his notepad, though Thanatos knew there was nothing of import on it, “Didn’t sound too happy about it neither! Something about an incident in Tartarus or something, I don’t know, but wow! He was furious! ”

Thanatos stomped down the panic that rose within him, but likely not quickly enough to hide it from Hypnos. There was little he could hide from his brother, loathe that he was to admit it. His escapades to aid Zagreus were bound to be noticed at some point, but he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

“Very well,” he replied, “I- will speak with him when he returns.”

The conspiracy of those aiding Zagreus persisted on these small warnings alone. So far, they had survived on small denials and strategic dismissals. Only Nyx had needed to defend herself publicly and there was little that Hades could do to rattle her. It was only a matter of time before he rounded on those that relied entirely on his good graces. Thanatos could imagine the punishments for such a transgression. An eternity in Tartarus or Asphodel seemed a blessing next to the punishments of Sisyphus or Prometheus. His mind reeled with the possibilities before he took a breath. He had made his choice when he appeared to Zagreus in Elysium. No one had forced him to get involved. 

Some strange part of him had just needed to see him again.

Thanatos turned away from his brother, towards Achilles. No less than Zagreus’ teacher would know if he currently resided within the Halls, or had dashed away on another foolhardy escape attempt. The look on his face stalled him. His eyes were glassy and fixed vaguely on the distant point of the corridor, where it split into the lounge and Zagreus’ chambers. Some small sadness seemed to haunt his features. Thanatos thought, unbidden, of those he had carried away from the teary voices of their lovers. He turned towards the point he stared at, only to notice that the music had stilled. The door to Zagreus’ chamber opened and Orpheus wandered out, lyre held under one arm, speaking behind him, gesturing broadly with his free, skeletal hand. Thanatos looked back to Achilles, but whatever spell had taken him snapped like a cut bowstring, and a smile dawned across his face as he nodded to Than as if he had just materialised.

It was best to warn Zagreus of his father’s intentions if he was here, he reasoned, floating towards his chambers. It was not fair for him to hear his father fly into a rage more than was necessary. Thanatos could handle himself under Lord Hades’ fury. Zagreus shouldn’t have to do so. He passed Orpheus, who, as usual, flinched from his eyes as though he may kill him again. Such responses were normal from shades. They had spent their lives in fear of him. Why would their afterlife be different? Thanatos had adjusted to their averted gazes and attempts to hide from where he passed. When he was younger he would chase their eyelines and check corners for where they hid. He had learned to take it less personally, to make the hits sting less. 

The door to Zagreus’ bedchamber was still ajar. Perhaps Orpheus had assumed that Zag would close it behind him, before the prince got caught up in some exciting idea and had neglected to do so. The prince was often whim to his passions, in most respects. Nothing was too insignificant to leave unpursued. Thanatos was surprised when Orpheus’ lyre started up again. The musician was not one to do anything with great haste, preferring to linger and brood between each action. It was a moment more before he realised that the sound was not coming from the Hall, but from Zagreus’ bedroom. With a furrowed brow, Thanatos stepped half into the room, concealed by the darkness that was his by birthright.

Zagreus was sat on his bed, a miracle in and of itself, his right leg pinned by his left knee as though it would keep it still. His body was hunched entirely over a lyre of solid, polished gold, that sparkled in the low light, ornamented by beautiful strips of ivory. His fingers plucked the strings as though he feared he would harm them, but they made the most beautiful melody. From here, Thanatos could see the press of his lips and the rumble of his chest as he hummed the notes he intended to produce, a small smile curling up his lips every time the sound emerged how he predicted. Candlelight flickered on his collarbone, on the exposed curve of his shoulder, gilding him in bronze. The light caught the golden leaves of his laurel and ricocheted like sunbeams, framing his face, his expression caught between concentration and delight.

Every word he intended to say died on his tongue. Thanatos could do little more than stare, listening as Zagreus’s melody strayed up and down, directionless but purposeful. If he breathed the spell would break. So, he stayed, lingering between the Hall behind him and Zagreus before him. His stomach felt as though it were trying to wring emotions from itself. Thanatos could feel the smile on his face, he could feel how  _ sentimental  _ and  _ wanting  _ it was. If Zagreus looked up now he would surely fall to pieces, and part of him wanted him to, wanted to see those mismatched eyes and how lovingly they focused on their task and- 

Thanatos’ shoulders slumped, just a fraction. The tension in his body left in rush as his feet hit the floor, silently enough to remain unnoticed. He watched Zagreus’ play, spellbound, as the song revealed every part of Thanatos that he had tried to keep in the darkness. The realisation hit him softly, gently, like a butterfly fluttering in the light of a stained glass window.

_ He loved him.  _

He loved him enough to move the world, were he to just ask. He would endure Lord Hades, the Olympians - anything - for a second of Zagreus’ contentment. To see him sit still for a bare moment and haltingly play the lyre. Thanatos wanted to hold his face in both hands and pour his soul into his eyes.  _ See what you do to me, you foolish man,  _ he wanted to scream,  _ what do I have to do to make you stay? I will do it. I would do more. _

Thanatos gasped. He felt as though his chest now had no will to breathe, only to tighten further. He blinked once, twice, before he trusted his vision, only to notice that Zagreus was staring back at him. Neither of them spoke a word. Thanatos felt cold all over. He didn’t trust his own lungs to inflate. There was so much kindness in Zagreus’ face, so much tenderness. Thanatos didn’t know how long he had been looking back, how much he had seen -

“Than?” he said, with that same hopeful lilt that Thanatos held so fondly when he appeared in battle. It had just meant to be one time, one small repayment for the friendship they had once had, it was never supposed to lead  _ here.  _ Thanatos took a step forward into the room, though it ached to do so.

“I-”

No words came to save him. His tongue may as well be another victim of Midas for all the use it was being now. 

Zagreus stood, putting the lyre behind him on the bed, concern knitting into his brow. Every expression Zagreus’ wore seemed to echo in every part of him. He could obscure nothing. Worry lingered in how Zagreus kept his hands in view, as though Thanatos were a frightened creature he could startle. Genuine, kind intent lurked in his smile. Thanatos felt like glass in his gaze. He knew, deep in his heart, that if he reached for him, Zagreus would reach back. If he were only strong enough, he could walk forward right now and kiss him, his forehead, his hair, his throat, but in the underworld approximate of dawn, he would be gone again. Thanatos had always known that Zagreus did not fit here, that he belonged, in part, to the overworld. He could give himself up, come entirely undone at his will, but it would not be enough. The idea that one day, he would wake and Zag would just be gone- 

“Lord Hades is in a- temper. If you do not wish to see it, you should- you should go,” Thanatos cursed his faulting tounge. It was unlike him and Zagreus knew it. He knew him better than anyone else in all the world.

“Is he angry with you?” Zagreus insisted, seeing straight though him as he always did, “You would not have come here besides. I can help-”

“No.” Than insisted, with a snap that he wished landed harsher than it did, “I can handle myself, Zagreus. I came here only at Achilles behest. Now, go.  _ Go. _ ”

It was a lie and it reeked of one. Even Zagreus saw it for the falsehood that it was. Thanatos wanted to swallow it back, but it had already passed. Something in Zagreus’ eyes shifted and in the back of his mind, Thanatos felt a door closing. He knew he had to let it shut. 

But Zagreus reached for him, holding his wrist just barely. 

“Than, if you’re in trouble with my father, I won’t stand for it. This is between me and him. Tell me what’s going on,” he replied, more firmly this time, “Please, Than. I can help, I promise.”

Thanatos knew it was too late now. Zagreus was so near to him that he could smell the residual iron of the Styx and honeysweet of nectar. He loved him so much his body hurt with the truth of it. Without his permission, his hand rose to cup the side of Zagreus’ face, his thumb caressing the cheekbone beneath the eye that shone green like sunlight on a meadow. Thanatos’ body screamed for Zagreus to just flinch, or shake his head, or walk away, anything that would stop his traitorous heart from wounding itself. Zag’s eyes widened, but he did not pull back. His eyes cast down to Than’s lips, and Thanatos knew it would be so  _ easy _ , so  _ simple _ , but if he did, there would be no going back. His heart would be forever bound to this man, this foolish man, who didn’t know how to stop running away, but looking back over his shoulder. He hesitated-

Zagreus did not. 

It was a gentle thing, the way Zagreus kissed him. The hand that had grounded him reached up to his neck and the underside of his jaw. His touch was so light, so afraid that Thanatos would vanish if he pressed too hard and Gods, Thanatos wanted to, but he could not let go. Zagreus’ pulled back and he could see the fear in his eyes that he had crossed some invisible line. He didn’t know how right he was, but Thanatos was no fool. He could feel the warmth under Zagreus’ skin and he  _ wanted _ . Thanatos kissed him. It was deliberate and less patient this time, pulling him closer. He was trying, somehow, to put a promise into a kiss. 

He pulled back. Zagreus’ lips were swollen and there was real joy in his eyes that Thanatos knew could be fatal. All of him wanted to stay. To hold him closer. To never let him go. He could hear Lord Hades’ voice booming outside. Zagreus’ didn’t look like he had heard anything, he was just looking at Thanatos like he was the only precious thing in all the world that meant anything. He committed the look to memory. He galvanised it, forged it into armour that would rival Hepheastus’ own work. If there was something worth fighting for, it was this, right here. He pressed a long kiss into Zagreus’ forehead.

“ _ Go, _ ” he breathed. 

Then in a flash of green light, he was gone. 

  
  


“You've been  _ abetting  _ him, Thanatos. Behind my back!” Lord Hades scoffed. Anger was knitted into every inch of his face. Thanatos was not foolish enough to believe this was a trial - he was already guilty and everyone in this hall knew it - this was now a matter of spectacle. Lord Hades knew as well as he did that spectacle was punishment enough for a man who loved the dark and quiet. The King of the Dead shook his head and continued. “Betrayal. I would ask you why.”

Thanatos had no answer. His mind spun the words love and duty until they made him dizzy. He had prepared this apology, but now it whirled away from him. 

“ _ Well? _ ”

Now there was real venom in Lord Hades’ tone. 

“My lord, he and I…” Thanatos felt his chest tighten to hold the declaration in, taking a deep, deliberate breath. A sense of ease nestled into his bones. He was not afraid of him. What could he do that Thanatos had not walked into willingly?

“Please. Go lock me up in Tartarus, or deal whichever justice you see fit. But, my loyalty is not subject to change-”

He did not hear Zagreus emerge from the Styx, having been felled in Asphodel earlier than he had anticipated. He did not see as he creeped up behind a pillar and listened, as he tended to do when there was a conversation that concerned him, but didn’t involve him. He did not hear the half breathed “ _ Oh, Than…” _ that left his lips without permission. He doesn’t feel Zagreus reach for him as he disappears, every fibre of his body echoing the words

_ I love you, y’know. _

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop thinking about the fact Achilles, Orpheus and Zagreus all play the lyre. I had a whole slow burn fic set around the parallels between those three, but I might chop it up into more oneshots, who knows?
> 
> I owe a decent amount to the fics of dustandstatic here on the A03 because.... Yearning, emotionally repressed but deeply in love Thanatos is the best and their fics have inspired me a lot in this regard. So, cheers for that.
> 
> I haven't put a fanfic up in... ages, but the thanatos/zagreus tag on here has been astounding before the game even launched and it's only getting better, so I was inspired to contribute! Hope you all enjoyed it.


End file.
